Fairy Tales
by T. Mad Hatter
Summary: Angsty companion to my other story, Smiles and Reflections. Liz, the girl in the other story, sits back and thinks about her life, her future...her red-headed best friend. Read and review, please.


I guess happy endings really are only in fairy tales. Cinderella and Sleeping Beauty got their princes because someone wrote out the picture. They got to go to the ball because their fairy godmothers always came to the rescue in the end. In fairy tales, love and happiness rule all, and the evil Stepmother always gets her disastrous end. Too bad my life isn't a fairy tale.  


You know, I never did like fairy tales anyway, at least, until I met you. You were the picture of perfection in my mind, and probably every other girl at Hogwarts. You were the prince, the knight in shining armor -- everything. And Angelina--she was your princess, your maiden in distress. I was merely a bystander, who had to watch the perfect lovers have the wedding, get married, etc. Depressing really on my part, but hey, I'm used to that feeling.  


And even after all that pain and hurt, I still managed to love you. My heart's so fucked up as to love a person I'll never truly have, but then again, it's connected to my brain and it's even worse.   


True love is like a drug, like cocaine or marijuana. You start for whatever reason -- heartbreak, suicide, curiosity, or just simple circumstance -- and you can never stop. It's really that simple. Once you try it the first time, you're addicted and it'll kill you in the end, too. At least, my love is like a drug. As much as I try to get off of you, there's not a patch in this world that'll work. Maybe it's because I damned to eternal misery, I don't know. I don't even care anymore, either.  


What hurts more than anything else, more than the fairy tale image, more than Angelina; hell, even more than the drug concept, is that sometimes I like it. Sometimes I _love _it. It's funny really, because I was never one to be sappy. I'm just not that kind of person. In a movie, for example, there's always that character who everyone loves for the sarcastic comedic relief, who doesn't seem like the marrying type, so they're safe; who you watch because they're reckless, but you love that because you're not the _actual_ person going through it. I guess I'm that person, really. It's something I fight with, sure, but whether or not I deal with it doesn't change the fact that it's still true.   


You wouldn't understand that, though. You aren't that person, and that's probably why I love you even more. You're, as I said before, perfect and perfect people are most definitely NOT what I described just now. You're the opposite of me, so I guess I like that. The saying that opposites attract really works, but only for one side. So...is it, one opposite is attracted? That doesn't sound as good, but at least it's more realistic...right? Right.   


I saw George the other day. Well, okay, I see George everyday since we're best friends, but I saw him yesterday too. I didn't tell him about my feelings for you (I may be insane, but I am not an idiot), but I could tell that he didn't want me to like you anyway. I don't have the best reputation, to be perfectly honest. Okay, okay, I have the worst reputation. It's not my fault though! Well, not entirely. I can't tell you whose fault it is, but it can't be ALL mine...can it? I didn't think so.  


There's really only one way to get over you: get addicted to something else. You see, like drugs, love does tend to fade if you can't train yourself to get addicted to something else. Sometimes things just get boring, so you need to find something even more dangerous. So, I'm going to find something that'll get my mind off of you. I just can't live like this anymore. I've got enough on my plate besides love, and this whole fairy tale fucking love isn't helping one bit. In fact, it's making everything worse.  


Life would be so much easier if I knew you at least liked me, even for just five minutes. Sure, it'd hurt like a bitch afterwards, but for those five minutes I'd be happy. I know this sounds weird to you, since happiness is a regular routine for you. However, for me, it's a dream that rarely comes true. Half the reason why that is probably my fault, but I really have no control of my life, or my actions.   


Eventually, though, I'll get over you. I have to, because my sanity—or lack thereof, I suppose--really depends on it. Seeing you every single day at Quidditch practice, meals, or whatever, is just a constant reminder of the fact that I'm doomed to just be your friend. Not even that, really.   


This all sounds really pathetic, too, and it's beginning to piss me off. I'm beginning to piss myself off. Why the hell do I have to be so goddamn sappy? When did I get like this? Gah, I've got to get a bloody life before I drive myself up the wall with all this romance talk. It's annoying the hell out of me.   


I was listening to the song _My Immortal_ by Evanescence (I really like that word) and I found the likeness of the lyrics scared me. 

"You used to captivate me  
by your resonating life  
now I'm bound by the life you left behind  
your face it haunts  
my once pleasant dreams  
your voice it chased away  
all the sanity in me"

Maybe I'm just destined to that end. I don't mind it so much anymore, it just makes me wonder what my life would've been like had I not known you. A part of me is saddened deeply by that thought...but the other part...well, it's just confused. 

I know that I'll let go of my love someday, though. I'll just wake up and everything will make absolutely no sense again. I'll get over you, Fred. I know I will. The only thing that scares me beyond anything else is that...will I be able to forget you?


End file.
